Old Friends and the Mountain

What a wonderful time we had with A & B this weekend, catching up on the events of the past few years, retelling old stories, and creating new ones for future exploitation. On the afternoon of their arrival the weather was near perfect. We enjoyed good food, conversation and lake views early in the day and spent the latter part of the evening huddled around a campfire as the temperatures dipped into the 40s. We awoke on Saturday to the tune of tropical storm Danny dancing a jig on our roof. Never ones to let the weather deep six the plans for the day we piled into the beast and headed north to Sugar Loaf ski resort.

B & A are avid snow skiers. Many, many years ago when we all had much younger knees D & I tried our hand at the sport. Our first outing was with A & B in western New York, in the rain.Completely unprepared for weather of any kind, D & I donned trash bags to ward off the elements and persevered on the slopes. Thoughts of hot chocolate and cold beer in the warm, dry lodge were the dangling carrots that kept us moving.

Not a lot was different on this day. Well maybe the fact that it was August and there was no snow, but that’s a minor consideration. It was blustery, cold and wet on that mountain. And thoughts of hot chocolate and cold beer in a warm lodge were still the dangling carrots that kept us moving. All of us except for B, stood huddled in the shops secluded from the cold and wind. He on the other hand, was like a kid in a candy store, standing in the raining, eyes focused on the top of that fog encased mountain, dreaming of the day when he might return to tackle the big bad boy of the north woods. (Sugar Loaf is the only place in the northeast that one can ski above the timberline, as if it isn’t cold enough under the trees.)

The day ended with the thin blooded Floridians stoking up the heat and sending the more rugged Connecticutites (is that a word) into a sweat-fest. This prompted a discussion on hot flashes and low and behold it seems that three out of the four people in that room suffer from the affliction. I won’t travel down that road any farther; I’ll just leave the thought for you to ponder.

Yes, it was a great weekend catching up with old friends. The kind that even if you don’t see each other much for 15 years you don’t miss a beat. You just pick up the thread of your last conversation and knit it back into the afghan of your life.

Thanks A & B for making the trek to Maine and for sharing the “Man Camp” with us. We love you guys and we’ll see in a couple of weeks.

North to Canada and a Cold Front Too.

I am giddy with glee this morning. Last night a cold front moved through whipping up little white caps on our pond and causing the temperature to plummet. For the first time since we left Florida I am cold. I dug my heavy sweatshirt out of the suitcase and I am happily sitting here this morning all bundled up in my warmest clothes, sipping a hot cup of coffee and watching the sunrise. Oh the glory of it all.

On Tuesday we went exploring, north on route 201 all the way to the end of the road. We followed the Kennebec River, Main’s logging route, as it meandered through the hills. At times rushing over rapids in it’s bid to get to the sea, at other times slowing down and widening into calm quiet pools.

The river valley is dotted with small weather beaten communities. There is no fast food, no McDonalds, no Walmarts, only small diners that cater to hikers, rafters, and loggers. I don’t think life is easy in the north woods, but the scenery is spectacular.

I just can't get enough of these beautiful stands of birch.

Unfortunately big business has invaded the solitude of northern Maine in the form of the logging industry. Prior to our trip I read that northern Maine is like a Hollywood movie set, get behind the thick stands of pine and hardwoods that line the highways and you will find a barren landscape: acres and acres that have been stripped of their bounty. Sadly it’s true. I thought we had learned from past mistakes, apparently the road is still long.

The above photo is looking north into Canada and the Kennebec River watershed. If you can believe the informational signs at the rest stop these mountains and the direction the water flows either north to Canada or south through Maine also determines the U.S. and Canada's border.

We wound our way home along Moosehead Lake, one of the largest lakes in the state. I am continuing my quest to spot a moose.

Unfortunately Bullwinkle continues to evade.

Sunrise and Best Friends

Did you have a best friend growing up? The kind that finished your sentences and always knew what your were thinking? The kind who spend almost as much time at your house as you did?The kind who logged endless hours on the phone with you talking about all of those life and death situations teens encounter on a daily basis?

I had one of those. We met in junior high when her family moved back to town. I don’t know if we bonded instantly or it developed over time. I do know that I couldn’t have made through high school without her. We were lucky we two, our husbands actually like each other: which has enabled the relationship to continue for something like 40 years. We used to vacation together. But these days we sneak a quick breakfast or lunch whenever we’re both in town and do most of our communicating via the internet. But that ends on Friday. A & B are coming to spend the weekend with us in our north woods hideaway. We have a lot of catching up to do and I’m not sure a weekend will be enough.

Sunrise comes early here in the north woods. But when the loons start their morning chorus there isn’t much one can do but rise up and enjoy the show. This particular morning the fog rolled in just about the time the sun peeked over the hill it made for some beautiful scenery.

(Mallard, not Loon)

Until next time unless the kick me out of the library!

Rainy Days and Mondays

What is better than waking up to the sound of a gentle rain on the roof and the call of loons on the lake? I haven’t seen the loons yet but I have high hopes for sunrise tomorrow morning.

A cold front pushed through earlier today and by mid afternoon blue could be spotted amidst the gray in the sky. Below is the result of the break in the weather. Enjoy.

Embden Pond

Embden Pond. 5 miles long, ½ to 1 mile wide. 1,568 acres of crystal clear water. Our home for the next 14 days.

We are located in a cluster of little cabins bustling with activity by day, quiet and peaceful by night. I imagine that will change next week when the young families pack up and head home to get ready for the start of school.

Our little home away from home is not 4 star, far from in it in fact. It is however rustic and cozy, clean and adequate. I have a much clearer understanding of why the locals call them “camps.” Step outside onto our little deck and the world changes. It comes alive with a view of the lake (just 20 yards away), evergreens and birch trees, the mountains off in the distance. This morning they are shrouded in mist and the lake is calm. This is what I signed on for. This is how I envisioned the Maine woods.

Hopefully I will have pictures for the next post. And by the way I have seen a raccoon and a skunk but so far Bullwinkle has eluded me.

In Search of Bullwinkle

Somewhere in New Hampshire these started popping up along the roadways:

And now I am on a mission, a crusade if you will, to find a Moose. Not a painted impersonation but a real live honest to goodness Moose. I know they are out there. They are probably standing on the edge of the dense undergrowth laughing at me. But I won't be deterred from my mission.

I want to see more than this:

And I most definitely want to see more than this:

I want the real thing and I will let you know just as soon as I find one.

Destination Maine

After 3 days on the road we have arrived at our destination. Well almost. We can't check into our first cabin until this afternoon. But we're close enough to call it done. We're in Maine.

(Have you noticed that the welcome signs are getting smaller the farther north we travel? What's up with that?)

Yesterday we were surrounded by the White Mountains or the "great north woods" as the locals say. Not as high or as rugged as their western counterparts but beautiful none the less. And while I wouldn't want to live in this neck of the woods come January I think I have confirmed that I am a northern girl at heart. I'm afraid my pictures don't do it justice. Most are grab shots in poor lighting conditions...hopefully things will improve once we get settled.

We lost the heat and humidity somewhere in New Hampshire and I hope we don't find it again until at least next June. It was becoming quite bothersome. But here's the real kicker in the weather department, Hurricane Bill. This trip was carefully planned to leave south Florida during the months of August and September, aka hurricane season. Enter Bill. The latest forecast has him missing Florida completely and skimming the coast of New England bringing rough seas, breezy conditions and a lot of rain. There is irony here, somewhere, and maybe tomorrow I will find it and laugh about it. But not today, I hate to unpack in the rain.

It didn't take us long to find Paul once we crossed into Maine. I think he was waiting for us.

And these..these are what it's all about. The beauty of nature, the north woods' finest. Doesn't it make you want to go out and buy a birch bark canoe?

This will be our last night with internet connection. I have confirmed that the small library in North Anson, just a scant 5 miles from the cabin, has Wifi. However, they are only open on Wednesdays and Saturdays and then only for a couple of hours. (What can I say, it's pretty remote up here in the woods.) If the bears don't get me I will update whenever possible and most likely it will be multiple posts at once.

Heading East and North

We left western Pennsylvania behind on Wednesday morning. Packed up the 90 degree temperatures and stifling humidity and headed east and north. After all we wouldn't want to deprive anyone else of summer.

As we traveled east on I80 I was once again reminded of how beautiful the Keystone State is. The same for New York. These highly populated states get labeled by the cities that book-end their borders. Little mention is made of the thousands of square miles of mountains, rolling hills and farm land. All green and lush from a summer when rain was plentiful.

An overnight stop just east of Syracuse prompted a visit to a local Casino. (I do love those slots!) I am pleased to share that I crossed the threshold with $40 in my pocket and exited the building with $46. I am indeed a high roller. Casino management everywhere should cater to my every whim.

One of our goals in retirement is to visit all 50 states in this grand country. Thus our decision to turn the car north in Vermont instead of taking the easier route east and up the coast. It was not a mistake. Vermont is so...Vermonty.

As we made our way across the southern portion of the state there were quaint little towns boasting covered bridges and enough historic markers to pave a small city. Robert Frost is buried in the cementary next to this Congregational Church in Bennington.

We picked up the interstate close to the New Hampshire line and after spending most of the day traveling from south to north I can tell you that there are a lot of trees in Vermont. Yes indeed, a lot of trees. I can also tell you that food is hard to come by. At least on the portion of Interstate we were cruising. And the rest areas aren't really rest areas at all. They are "parking areas" which translated means "no facilities." But once I was fed, watered, and pottied I relaxed and enjoyed the beauty of the "Green Mountain State." I would love to have had the time to dip into those meandering valleys and explore the little hamlets hiding under the lush green canopies; given away only by the tall white steeples on the Congregational churches. It is a road less traveled and one that would be far more interesting.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Pittsburgh. The Steel City. The City of Bridges. The home of the Steelers, the Penguins, and the Pirates. The City of Champions.

By the time the 60's arrived Pittsburgh was ailing, choking on the pollution spewing from the steel mills that lined the three rivers of this proud blue collar town. With the dawn of the conservation movement the City cleaned itself up and now stands as a proud testament to a greener society and outstanding city planning.

As a western Pennsylvania native Pittsburgh is my town. It's sports teams are my teams. I'm not a big hockey fan but I always root for the Penguins. I am a football fan and there is no pro team like the Steelers. They line up week after week to play down and dirty football. They are rugged and tough and gritty, a mirror image of the steel workers who love them. It is one of my fondest wishes to attend a Steeler game at the new Heinz Field. I'm adding it to my bucket list. Anyone out there with a spare ticket or two please take note!

And then there are the Pirates. Year after year they toil in obscurity near the bottom of the National League Central Division. This year is no different. I still love them. I remember cheering for Roberto Clemente, Bill Mazerowski and Willie Stargel. Oh the glory days. I hadn't attended a professional baseball game in over 20 years and I had forgotten just how much fun they are.

That changed this year and we headed to the City to root for the Pirates and get a closer look at the new facilities. Prior to game time we spent a most enjoyable evening strolling the River Walk that meanders along the Allegheny River connecting the two newly constructed stadiums. We tried our hand spinning the wheel of fortune just inside the Pirate's PNC Park. We came away winners with a baseball cap and a Manny Sanguin bobble head doll tucked under our arms.

We took our most excellent seats behind home plate and settled in for the evening. What a show we witnessed. There were singles, doubles, and more home runs than I can recall. Foul balls bounced around us and the Pirate Parrot danced on the dugout.

There was drama at home plate. Safe or out?

That would be safe thank you, and another run scored for the home team. The Pirates outdid themselves on this balmy August evening, racking up one for the win column and sending the fans home happy. What is more satisfying to loyal fans than a hard fought victory?

As darkness fell on the stadium Pittsburgh's skyline came to life over the center field wall. It was the perfect backdrop for a hot summer night.

(Although I wish someone would have turned on the air conditioning for us!)

P.S. Em...this one's for you.

Until next time, hopefully from the cool north woods!

Pennsylvania Welcomes You

When I see this:

It means two things...FAMILY and Coney Island hot dogs (Pennsylvania style). I can assure you I have eaten my fair share of the latter this past week. I have also seen my fair share of the former and it was great fun.

D's large family (and my much smaller one) are scattered across the hills of western Pennsylvania as if caught in a westerly breeze and dropped helter skelter to take root. One branch on the family tree is so remotely located that they entertain bears in their back yard. We didn't see any bears on our visit but were thoroughly entertained by nieces, nephews and cousins.

The photos below are a random collection of shots from get together and photo shoots. There are so many pictures to sort through after 10 days that I fear it will take me until Christmas to see daylight. So patience to those still waiting on proofs.

The only downside to our stay in Pa was the temperature. Apparently summer chose to arrive in time for our visit ushering in temperatures in the 90s and Florida style humidity. I'm still hopeful that my sweatshirt will see some action in the north woods of Maine.